I'm Frustrated, So I Deal Damage
Frustration Mode Activated
Tarte felt a surge of pure frustration well up inside her like a Berserk Potion gone wrong. In this world that had no time limit—unlike her own life—she was going to make sure the Demon paid for every moment of that fleeting existence.
Right there in the Starter Village, in the dead of night, the air crackled with tension. The opposing team stood on one side, her own Starry Night on the other, and the stakes were nothing less than the fate of Earth itself. Team A wanted the corrupted Deer God dead, no matter the cost. Team B wanted it purified. One wrong move, and humanity would be gone forever.
But Tarte was the leader. She carried the weight of every teammate’s life on her shoulders, and right now that weight felt heavier than ever.
She locked eyes with the pink-haired beauty across the circle—her opposite team’s Mage. The woman was lean, almost too thin, with a fragile beauty that screamed “do not touch.” Yet something in her posture, in the way her eyes refused to waver, told Tarte this wasn’t just another arrogant rival. This was personal.
The Demon’s voice boomed through the air like thunder from a game master’s throne. “Hyeolpung Geomseong and the others summoned me and started the game. Is that correct?”
Geomseong stepped forward, polite as ever, leather armor creaking softly. “Yes, that is correct. We mean no harm.”
Then the Demon turned that teasing, condescending smile straight at Tarte. “And you, beautiful priestess? You summoned me. Was that your idea?”
Tarte’s smile was razor-sharp, the pious saintess mask cracking just enough to show the battle-hungry fire beneath. “Well, if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here causing all this trouble now, would you?”
The Demon laughed, delighted. “Touché! I love it when players fight back. Tell me, does this world still have the same rules about not killing each other? Or are we all free to play dirty?”
Tarte’s heart hammered. She had read the system notes a thousand times. The Tower was a game, but one with real consequences. If they killed the wrong person… lives were lost forever. She couldn’t afford to take that risk. Not yet.
She opened her mouth to answer, but before a single word could leave her lips, a soft voice cut through the night like a whisper from the grave.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any life left to lose.”
Tarte’s head snapped around. The girl—barely more than a teenager with glowing eyes and an alchemist’s cloak—had stepped forward. Miro. The name flashed across Tarte’s mind from the Team A briefing. Terminally ill. Desperate. Willing to sacrifice billions to survive one more day.
The Demon’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oho? A dying girl who still wants to play? How tragic. How delicious.”
Miro didn’t flinch. “You summoned us into this game. You created the Tower. So whatever happens here… is your responsibility.”
Tarte felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The girl wasn’t begging. She wasn’t crying. She was simply stating a fact as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And yet the quiet certainty in her voice made Tarte’s blood run colder than any ice spell.
The Demon clapped his hands together, delighted. “Well, well, well! A cornered little mouse who thinks she can bite back! How refreshing! Tell me, little alchemist, what exactly are you offering in exchange for your life?”
Miro’s gaze never left the Demon’s face. “I’m offering you my cooperation. But I need one thing in return.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Let my Team A win. If they claim victory, I live. If they lose… well, you already know what happens then.”
The silence that followed was so complete Tarte could hear the wind whispering through the village trees. Every single soul in the village was listening. The elders, the youths, the merchants, the livestock—everyone. And none of them could look away.
Tarte’s mind raced. A Team A victory meant the corrupted Deer God would die. Millions of real people would lose their bodies in the Tower forever. Billions of Earthlings would be freed from the erosion. But it also meant Miro would die the moment the game ended—right here, in this very square, in front of everyone.
And the Demon… the Demon would win. The game would end. Earth would become a fantasy world. Tarte’s team would lose everything they had fought for.
She looked at Miro. Really looked. The girl’s cheeks were hollow, her eyes bright with fever, yet her hands were steady. She wasn’t bluffing. She was offering something far more dangerous than any single life: the chance for Team A to crush her own team in exchange for a guarantee that she would live.
“You’re insane,” Tarte whispered, but her voice carried just far enough for everyone to hear.
Miro smiled—small, sad, and strangely kind. “No. I’m desperate. There’s a difference.”
The Demon’s laughter rang out like bells made of shattered glass. “Oh, I do love a good tragic romance! But darling, this isn’t a romance. This is a transaction. You give me your cooperation, and I grant you a stay of execution. Simple, isn’t it?”
Miro’s smile never wavered. “Then I suppose that’s what I’m offering. My life for my team’s victory. Take it or leave it, Demon.”
Tarte’s stomach twisted into knots. She could feel the weight of every teammate’s eyes on her—Geomseong’s polite concern, Daepokpal’s wide-eyed excitement, Muraebae’s silent stare. They were waiting for her to decide. To lead.
But leading meant making a choice that would change the world. One choice. One promise.
She looked back at the pink-haired girl standing silently at the edge of the crowd. The girl who had already accepted her own death the moment she walked into the Tower. And Tarte realized something terrible.
She didn’t want to kill this girl. Not really. She wanted to protect her. To drag her out of the fire and make her live long enough to see another sunrise. But in this world, that was impossible.
The Demon leaned forward, eyes glittering with pure, unfiltered sadism. “Well? Are we done playing, little alchemist? Or shall I make you an offer you can’t refuse?”
Miro’s voice was barely a whisper, yet it carried across the square like a prophecy. “I’ll cooperate. But only if I get to watch the game play out exactly as it was meant to. No… alterations. No hidden tricks. Just the pure, uncut story.”
The Demon’s grin widened until it split his face. “Oh, I’m beginning to like you. Very much.”
And just like that, the world tilted on its axis.
Miro’s Bargain
📍 Location: Starter Village Square
🎁 Reward: One life saved (Miro)
⚠️ Sacrificial option available. Consequences unknown.
Tarte’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. The frustration that had been building since the moment she stepped into the Tower roared to life inside her chest. She had fought, she had bled, she had sacrificed everything to keep this world from becoming a nightmare. And now this desperate girl had handed her the perfect weapon to win—except winning would cost the one person who might actually survive this hell.
She looked at Miro one last time. The girl was already turning away, fading into the shadows of the village path, but her words still echoed in Tarte’s mind like a curse.
“Let my Team A win… or else.”
And the Demon, laughing softly in the background, simply waited to see what the priestess would do next.
The game had only just begun.